


Shot at the Night

by Lustworthy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shingeki no Kyojin Fusion, Breaking and Entering, Catholic Marco, Death Mother, Death father, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Implied Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein, Implied Levi/Eren Yeager, Implied Relationships, M/M, Minor Mikasa Ackerman/Annie Leonhart, Non-Canon Relationship, One-sided Jean Kirstein/Mikasa Ackerman, Shingeki no Kyojin: Kuinaki Sentaku | Attack on Titan: No Regrets, Theft, Underage Drinking, Underwear Theft, University, non-canon relation, shingeki no kyojin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lustworthy/pseuds/Lustworthy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a catastrophe of a weekend Jean feel's like the worst human being to ever roam the planet. In a matter of three days he's exploited friends, betrayed his family, and robbed strangers. Everyone including himself is ready to give up on him except for one particular person.  One mistake Jean makes leads to what might be the only light in his darkness. Some guy named Marco Bodt reaches out to him to help him rebuild his life, but Jean has no idea why. Why is this seemingly kind, generous, almost perfect person wasting their time with this poor, trashy, low life?  Where the hell did he come from? But most importantly, can he actually fix something so fucked up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mister Atomic Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> It's on a whim, I've had it on my laptop and I've just really been wanting to write a Jean/Marco one for a while. I don't know how often I'll update. Wonderlust is on it's way. I've been busy and aside from that to be honest with you all I've just got writers block and it's not much use writing right now because I'll hate it later when I go back to edit. I'll update when it clears, and it'll be good, I promise.
> 
> In the mean time I bring to you "Shot at the Night". Oh I know, my titles are crappy. I listened to The Killer's a lot while writing this so if it's got the eloquent depressing vibe..uh yeah, there's your answer. I highly recommend them not to mention suggest you look up their video for Miss Atomic Bomb...it was also a bit of an inspiration for this
> 
> With out further delay..um (I'm crappy at suspense) 
> 
> Here you go.

Falling back on forever,

I wonder what you came to be...

I was new in town, the boy with the eager eyes...

I never was a quieter,oblivious to school girls lies...

......

You're gonna miss me when I'm gone......

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                For Those Who Lost Their Way

This isn't a happy story, sorry... It's about how I lost my way, and how Marco Bodt found it. It's also about how he lost his way...and how someone like me managed to help him find it. It's not some shiny story about straying away from my savior or finding the path to justice. It's about me living my life, same for Marco...

Maybe I'm happy now, maybe I'm not. But thing's have changed, and here's exactly how.

I couldn’t even think. I couldn’t breathe either but at that moment that didn’t really bother me. All of it was just so shocking, so fucking paralyzing that vitals were the least of my priorities right then. My mother’s words wouldn’t leave my mind; for years they never would.

 

At this point I had two choices. Hug her and play the good son, go to the funeral and choke out a few tears…Or get back in the car and drive as far south of home as I possibly could. I’d never been the sensitive sort, so you could guess exactly which laden path I sauntered down on, leaving my mother’s tear stained face to stare sorrowfully at my back.

 

 

My father was dead.

 

To worsen that fragment of my unpleasant reality I was happy about that. Yeah. I know. What kind of jackass, dick-brained, piece of shit, a-s-s-h-o-l-e was I. I was the kind of guy who got in fights with their dad all the time. No maybe not just all the time, hourly, every time I walked into the kitchen, living room; hell that son of a bitch would even walk into my bedroom to pick a fight. No matter what time of day or place on this god forsaken planet, that man would find me and start a fight with me over anything. But not anymore.

 

 

Now he was dead.

 

 

I emptied my lungs of the air I’d been holding in them since my mother had let the words sputter from her trembling mouth. I just needed to drive. I listened to the engine roar to life, adjusted the mirror, I was ready for the freeway, except… There she was. My eye’s slowly met my mother’s through the rear view mirror. They were scrunched up, teary at the edges, a pained expression. But that wasn’t what hurt. What hurt was the look she was giving me. It was beyond hurt, it was as if she was questioning where she’d gone wrong. How could her sweet innocent, little ‘Jean-Jean’ turn into such an insensitive prick? Her lips moved in a soundless parody as she tried to speak through the muffled glass. But I knew what she said. It was the exact reason I had slammed so hard on the gas pedal to cause its shape to be permanently formed on my foot.

 

“Why Jean?”

 

I couldn’t cry until she was out of sight. But at the speed I was going that happened pretty quickly. Searing hot liquid melted from my eyes rushed down my cheeks. They weren’t tears. Tears were from sadness. I didn’t know why I was crying. It sure as hell wasn’t for my dad. “F-Freeway and then it’s only a few more hour’s from that,” I sputtered.

 

Okay yes…I had said that to myself. In my defense I didn’t make many friends as a kid, many being well… zero. Talking to myself calmed me, even if the conversations got boring really fucking fast but hey, who knew me better than I knew me? So no, I wasn’t crazy. That would come to change though.

 

I succumbed to playing the bargain mix tapes I had picked up in a convenience store on campus for the rest of my drive back to school. As I pulled into the cheap neighbourhood of near-campus houses I began to sink back into the brutal reminder of just how poor I was. At the end of the street, in a small beat up white house with only one bathroom and three bedrooms I lived with my five roommates. Yeah, you do the math.

 

There was Reiner and Bertholdt, the boyfriends. They got the largest of the bedrooms all to themselves because well, let’s be honest. No one wanted to hear what those two were up to during the wee hours of the morning. Though with the extra thin walls and floors we were still gifted with that unwanted privileged, and let me tell you first hand, after just a few months of living with them and their…audio, I wasn’t all that sure Reiner was a human.

 

Then there was Mikasa. She was pretty much the big sister to all of us though I’ve got to admit I kind of wished she was a little more than that. Needless to say she kept us out of trouble; you could always count on Mikasa, especially to keep Eren in line, that was a given since she was his sister.

 

Eren was my roommate. A roommate I very much happened to enjoy tormenting the fuck out of. We’d pretty much been stuck together since the first day. Both of us had been the last to arrive so we were the last to pick our rooms, which also happened to be the same sizes as a card board box. We got the room with the big bed but the smallest space. Most nights it was freezing, it was loud because we were right next to the laundry room, and, if that wasn’t bad enough we had to share a bed. The first few nights it had been the most awkward experience of my life but eventually we overcame it...by putting a sailor moon body pillow that my sister had found at a garage sale, in between us. But right now I didn’t care. It was Saturday and when I finally pulled up to the shabby excuse of a living space all I could think about was going back to sleep. My foot steps on the hard wood were the only sound in the quiet early morning filled house as I made my way past the kitchen and down the hall to where my room was. I didn’t bother trying to open and the close the door quietly. All the doors and hinges creaked any way and Eren and I had made it remotely clear that we would not be courteous to each other during any point of this school year.

 

Eren mumbled in his sleep as I sat down on my side of the bed and kicked off my shoes. The covers were stiff from the cold but right now I didn’t care. I just wanted these feelings of pain and guilt to evaporate as I passed out for at least the next ten hours.

 

“Holy fuck, Jean, your feet are freezing!” Eren shot up on his side. I responded by pressing my clearly icy foot against his calf. “Asshole,” he yelped. I snickered as he squirmed away and fell off the bed with a thud. It was always fun pissing Eren off. I spread out my arms and legs, enjoying the newly claimed territory of his side of the bed until Sail Moon’s forehead collided with my face.

 

“Gah! Fuck off Eren; I’m trying to get some sleep.”

 

 

Eren loomed over me, an evil glare in his eyes. “Jeaaaaaaan.”

 

 

“No!”

 

 

“Jeeeeeean!”

 

 

“Fuck of Jaeger. Get back to bed.”

 

 

“Why do you look so upset, Jean? Did I hit you too hard or something?”

 

I dove under the covers, ignoring his question. “I said fuck off,” I growled into my pillow. “Just go back to sleep.

“Jeeeeean?”Eren squirmed back under the covers but I didn’t answer, pretending I was already asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

I wish I could say I woke up to the delicious smell of fresh, sizzling bacon wafting up my nose, but I didn’t. I was lucky enough to wake up to the harsh, searing pain of the brightest fucking light known to man. Eren, being the fantastic roommate he was had somehow managed to wake up before me. Then, he had waited for the exact moment for the sunlight peeking through the blinds to land on my face. Then, BAM! He yanked the cord and fucking blinded me with the Saturday morning laser beam of morning haze.

 

“EREN YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

 

“Jean?”

 

There’s one other roommate I forgot to mention. Armin. He’s basically the wingless angel of the house. He cooks. He cleans. He does everyone’s laundry .Fuck; the kid even helps me with school and work. I’d call him a mother type figure but to me that’s not much of a title. Let’s call him…my best friend. “Hm,”rubbing my temples I catch sight of the glorious plate of bacon in his hands. My stomach growls like the inside of a ship. Armin’s cheeks turn a rosy pink as he laughs.

 

“I was going to ask if you were hungry but I guess that answers my question.”

 

 

Floor boards creaked above us telling me that Mikasa, Bertholdt, and Reiner were awake. Armin retreated back into the kitchen to prepare for the starving animals that would soon descend the stairs to devour all they could of the succulent, crispy, bacon. I bolted up from the bed. If I left the food for those three there’d be nothing left. The sweet and salty scent wafted up my nose, beckoning me to it. It was just by the stair case, I was almost there-

“Jean,” Mikasa grabbed my arm. God fucking dammit!

 

“Mm?”

 

“Rent is due today,” she ran her fingers through her tangled chin length locks.

 

“How much?” I knew any amount would be too much, even with my two jobs it was too much. It was only ever enough when I got a little help from my mom, but that wasn’t exactly an option this time. Not after what I had just done.

 

“Three hundred.” Oh shit. Oh fucking hell. Fuck me. Fuck me! I’m screwed. That was way too fucking much. There was no way I could make that. Unless…

 

Yeah. I would do that. I wouldn’t be proud of it but if I did it then I’d have enough.

 

“Sure, Mikasa. I’m getting it wired from home again though so can you just spot me for a day and I’ll get it to you for tomorrow night?”

 

“Last time, Jean. You’re lucky; you’ve got people to give you a hand when you need it.” She was right. Mikasa had it way harder than any of us in the house, but I didn’t really know the details of that. Without another word we went into the kitchen to grab our share of the remaining bacon: two fucking pieces. Eren’s mouth on the other hand was stuffed like a fucking squirrel full of that shit.

 

I worried my lip between my teeth. I wasn’t proud of what I was about to do but this was absolutely necessary. I’d be in and out, and I’d just take some things they wouldn’t notice. This house was pretty big; it looked like it belonged to some rich kid. There was only one car in the drive way, a shiny new minivan. That generally meant it belong to some fraternity or something. I wasn’t all that worried though. It was nine o’clock on a Saturday night; they were all probably visiting family, working, or partying.

 

I pulled out my phone to go over the process again, the YouTube video lit up the screen. ‘Three easy steps to picking a lock’ -- it couldn’t have been that easy considering I’d watched it about ten times…

 

“The first thing you’re going to need is a bobby pin.”

 

“I don’t fucking have one,” I grumbled at the forty something man on the screen. To be completely honest I didn’t know where to get them, Mikasa wasn’t the majorly girly type and even if she was her hair was too short to use them; so I’d substituted it with a hammer and nail. The man in the video did a series of awkward motions with one hand as he fiddled with the lock before it swung right open.

 

“Okay...just wing it. There are no videos about opening a lock with a hammer and nail.” I position the nail by the key hole, the hammer hovering just above it. In one swift motion I crashed it down on the unsuspecting lock. There was a mixture of crunching metal on metal and then I realized that a piece of it had just barely gone through my finger. I grit my teeth suppressing the impending scream of a certain ‘f’ word from leaving my lips. Holy hell that hurts! A light on the second floor flashes on. I’ve got to hurry. My uninjured hand tries the newly reshaped lock. The sound of rough metal holds it in place for a moment before I slam my body into it. It crashes out of its frame and lands with a horrifyingly loud thud.

 

Once I’m inside I switch on my head light. The owner of the house defiantly heard that failed attempt at a quiet break and enter; I can hear their cautious footsteps as they make their way towards the stairs. I’m in what looks like a living room. My eyes scour around it for something that could sell for at least a hundred. There’s a mantle with a bunch of decorative eggs. Their jewels sparkle to catch my eye- Perfect. My hands enclosed around the first one. My thumb felt over a latch. Maybe there was some kind of jewellery or some shit inside? I can hear footsteps on the stairs and quickly switch off my head light.

“Just in and out,” I remind myself quietly. I crack open the jeweled egg. The piercing sound of music fills the room. “Oh fucking hell.”

 

“W-Who’s there?” Out of the corner of my eye, from my left side I can see the silhouette of a skinny guy, slightly taller than me. “I said who’s there?!” I flinched but tried my best to stay completely still afterwards, not that it would do much. I took a step back; the guy took a step forward. We move through the living room like this until I’d led him into the hallway. 

 

The guy stoops down for a split second and I take the advantage to run back to where I had broken in, moon light pools into my vision and I squint to adjust to the new lighting. What must be a baseball bat  hits my ankle and I fall over.

 

“Give that back; it’s my mother’s!” Another thick blow from the baseball bat lands on my upper thigh. This guy keeps hitting me, I try my best to squirm away but every hit he plants is perfect. Pain roars through my skin, spreading like wild fire. I’m choking for air as my muscles scream louder and louder. My throat is growing thick with the bile of my strangled screams. I let go of the egg, just as I feel the guy’s fist collide with the side of my face. With one final burst of energy I attempt to stand up from the dewy ground. My palms slip but my back remains arched as I slide across the grass in some weird imitation of a yoga pose.

 

“D-Don’t make me call the c-cops.” My former attacker kneels down to clasp the egg, closing it slowly and silencing the repetitive melody. “G-Get out of h-here!” The voice of who I’m assuming is a guy is trembling more than my body. I raise myself in the darkness. It doesn’t matter where I run now, I’ve just gotta get away from here. My stomach’s bubbling with guilt. I should be the one on the verge of tears from the beating I’ve just gotten but this guy is about seconds away from turning into a human waterfall.

 

“Hey..uh..” “If you leave now I’ll p-pretend it never h-happened.” Good enough for me…except I couldn’t shake it. I walked away, down the narrow side walk,through the neighborhood, in and out of shadows. Whatever. I was home and in bed, hours later, but I couldn’t shake it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Look, can you please just wire me the money and tell mom about it later? I kinda don’t have any other way to get it right now, I’ll pay you back this time, I swear.”

 

"How do I know you will this time.” The crunching sound of my sister Sasha eating while on the phone makes me cringe.

 

“Sasha…just..please?”

 

“What do I get out of it?”I can hear the bag ruffling in the receiver as if she’s actually contemplating it.

 

“I uh..I’ll give you free food for a month.”

 

“What kind of food?”

 

“Sasha!”

 

“Ugh! Fine. I’ll send it to you by the end of the day.”

 

“Thanks. I’ll send you those jalapeno cheeto’s in the mail.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, and the barbecue Fritos!”

 

As soon as she hangs up the bright blue eyes of Armin Arlert appear in my doorway.

 

“It’s Sunday, you know what that means.”

 

“You bet I do…” I fake a smile and toss my phone onto my pillow. The one downside to being friends with sweet, adorable Armin is that I have to go to church with him every Sunday because I promised him I would. He pulls away from the doorway to reveal a perfectly ironed white dress shirt and jeans. Armin’s always been really good at keeping clean and looking good. I wish I could pull that off. Much to Armin’s obvious surprise I strip my shirt and pajama bottoms off and reach for the “church clothes” Armin deemed decent enough for me to wear. I ignored his crimson face until I’m fully dressed.

 

“Alright, lets go..."

* * *

 

 

 I don’t normally do this but for some reason the unbearable guilt was too much to push down. I ducked into the tiny confession booth and took a deep breath.

 

“Uh..hey..please don’t say anything..can I just vent?”

 

There wasn’t any answer. So either I guess it was empty. I guess I could talk to myself; just like I always did.

 

“I’ve done something bad. In fact, I’ve actually done a lot of really, really bad things, uh, especially in the past couple of days. And I’m just scared, everything’s fixed but I can’t help feeling bad about how I’ve hurt t-these people and I’m just such a dick to them- Oh shit I can’t swear in church! Oh fuck I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to, ah, crap I did it again. I-I’m so, so sorry!” I’ve been rambling for such a long time I’m out of breath. It’s still quiet on the other side so I guess I really am alone. “My..my dad died on Friday and I didn’t care. What’s worse is that I left my mom when she probably needed me most. Then, when my roommate need the rent instead of manning up and apologizing to her, I went behind my mom’s back to get the money from my little sister, Sasha. Then I broke into this random stranger’s house and he beat the shit out of me. Oh- uh right, sorry.” It was crazy how much this was working.

 

Maybe this was stupid but getting all of this off my chest was helping with the guilt. But this was still a confessional, and someone could walk in at any time. I had to be conscious of that.

 

“And I tried to steal this golden egg thing from this guy for r-rent money," whispered the last sentence, I knew if I got too loud someone could hear me outside of this box of claustrophobia. 

 

Someone on the other side of the curtain took a sharp intake of breath and I knew I had to get out of there.

 

"Jean? Are you in there? Mass is starting." The few seconds it took to get out of the booth turned into a race between me and whoever was on the other side of the curtain. When i finally broke out I booked it to the aisle Armin had chosen for us. To this day I've never actually checked if you're allowed to run inside a church, but I think I broke the record for fastest sprint to your seat..

 

 

All that I wanted was a little touch,

A little tenderness and truth, I didn't ask for much, no

Talk about being in the wrong play at the wrong time...

 

(Miss Atomic Bomb Making out we've got the radio on  
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone  
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone...")


	2. Can You Read My Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean goes to a bar in an attempt to drown his sorrows in a little Jack Daniels... Buuut things don't go as planned (duh! This is Jean's life, why would things go as planned?!) And he ends up meeting someone not so normally..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm probably going to update this monthly. It's not just because I'm busy but because it takes pretty long to write. The next chapter probably won't get out by September first so I'd like to dedicate this chapter to a very good friend of mine. Happy Birthday ( Y'know who you are) 

 

_“I never really gave up on_

_Breakin' out of this two-star town_

_I got the green light_

_I got a little fight_

_I'm gonna turn this thing around_

_Can you read my mind?_

_Can you read my mind?”_

 

“You're kidding, right? Oh god, please tell me you're kidding!" Reiner just smirked and leaned back in his chair and kicked his large feet up on the dinner table, making it creak under his sneakers.

 

“Nope, I'm actually not. Try it.”

 

“Fine,"I dug my phone out of my hoodie pocket and dialed his number. Sure enough the phone began vibrating on the kitchen table emitting what sounded like moans. “Real mature," I rolled my eyes and looked back at Armin. He'd been facing the stove for the past ten minutes listening to my little conversation with Reiner while cooking our dinner. His back was turned to us but I could tell that his ears are scarlet. Poor thing must have looked like a tomato with a bad wig.

 

Reiner chuckled and answered the phone that was orgasuming  on the table.

 

“Hello?"

 

“Helllllllllllllloooooo pervert,” I pressed the phone to my ear, smirking at him. “So I’m guessing those are Bertholdt’s moans?”

 

Reiner rolled his eyes and hung up.  “What time is it,” he was clearly dodging the question, not that I didn’t know the answer. Armin’s face was getting redder by the minuet and secretly a part of me wanted to see how bad it could get.

 

"Almost five, why?"

 

“Dude I'm so bored!

 

“We can go to a party or something." Eren and Mikasa were out running errands and Bertholdt was working.

 

"Or we could just go visit Bertholdt.”

 

“Ugh, for god’s sake Reiner, you see him every day. Can I not third-wheel for once?”

 

“Or you could just not come,” his gold eyes narrowed as he stared challengingly at me.

 

“Nah, I’m coming. Just don’t expect me to stick around when you guys start making googly eyes at each other from across the bar counter.” Bertholdt worked as a bartender at “The Fallen Wall Tavern”. It was a grumpy little shack, the kind that played old music on a small radio in the corner. At some point the owner had tried to make it an Irish pub and failed only to have some kind of “bohemian hipster” take over the business and put their own…spin on things.

 

“Alright well I’m parked out back so get your shit and meet be there.” Clearly Reiner was more than eager to get to the bar.

 

“Wait—Jean, what about dinner.” Armin’s eyes were wide with panic as he rushed to turn the stove off, cooling a pot of something in one hand while mixing another on the counter.

 

“I’ll be fine. I wasn’t even that hungry anyway.” The little blonde mushroom’s face drooped sending a massive flood of guilt into my stomach. “Wh—I um…Meant that maybe you could put it in one of those Tupperware thingies? Heh...and...and Reiner and I could eat it on the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

Five minutes later I was pinned to the passenger’s seat holding a plastic bag full of cold pirogues while Reiner attempted to break the sound barrier in his 2005 Prius.

 

I was more than thankful for having skipped out on dinner considering that at the speed we were going I would have lost it about four miles back.  The Fallen Wall Tavern was at the very end of town, almost out of city limits but not quite. Seeing as Trost wasn’t an extremely big town you could make it there in about forty five minutes; tonight however it seemed that Reiner was trying to break that record, by going a hundred and ten miles an hour.

 

Okay, he was a reckless driver in general. I’d rather take the bus or walk down a thousand dark allies rather than have him as my daily commute, but that said lately I hadn’t really cared. Maybe it was because he wanted to see Bertholdt that he was rushing but maybe it was also because he didn’t care either. A ticket wasn’t a big deal for him because his parents were filthy rich.

 

With the smell of burning rubber a pungent fragrance to signify our arrival we pulled into the less than cramp parking lot of our destination.  It took a minuet for my ears to pop.

 

“Don’t forget your fake.” Reiner pulled the key from the ignition, killing the dull roar of the nearly over heated engine. Without waiting for me to get out of the car he slammed the door shut. It took a minuet for me to collect myself, y’know regulate my breathing, make sure I still had a heartbeat, that he hadn’t driven so fast my skin was torn off my skeleton; just the usual.

 

I was about to get out just as a jeep full of girls pulled up and anxiety struck. Society expected me, as a male, to flirt with them, right?  But I was fucking horrible at that.

 

“Whatever Jean, just calm down, go in there and have a couple of drinks and forget about this whole stupid weekend.” They gave me funny looks as they passed by. Two boys were with them, a short bald headed kid and a taller guy with dark hair; he seemed kind of shy and lost, trailing behind his friends. This obviously must have been his first time.

 

I hurried out to catch up to them. Whoever they had ID-ing would pay a lot less attention to my picture if I went in with a crowd.  I fell in a couple steps behind the boy, digging my ID out of my wallet to examine it.  This chick Ymir from my English class hooked me up with it.  Aside from having the same height as him this guy and I had nothing in common.

 

**Name: Erwin Edward Smith – Well that sure sounded boring.**

**Age:  29 –snort—Like hell I looked that old.**

**Hair Color: Blond – Eh that was a small divergence, maybe I dyed my hair?**

**Height: 6’2 – Yep.**

**Home Town: Las Vegas, Nevada – No but close enough I guess.**

Okay, yeah. It was a really fucking crappy ID.  In fact, they probably sold better ones in Target parking lots but Ymir only charged me ten bucks for this, probably because it was stolen.

 

The bouncer was a woman in her late twenties, early thirties.  She had thick brown rectangular glasses that flashed every time she turned her head, which seemed to be a lot. Rather than looking at people’s ID’s she seemed to be trying to socialize with everyone so it was taking a while and a line was beginning to form. I guess it was in my favor though since that meant she’d pay far less attention.

 

The guy I’d spotted before ended up right in front of me in what must have been a line of around eighteen people.  He was sighing and rocking back and forth.

 

“Gonna be okay?”

 

The guy jumped and whipped around to face me. His brown eyes were wide open and his face was pale. The guy’s face must have had at least a thousand freckles.

 

“O-Oh uh... yeah”

 

“First time?”

 

“Mhm.

 

“Eh relax, it’s not like she’s paying that much attention.”

 

“Thanks um…”

 

“Erwin Smith,” I flashed him a warm smile and stuck out my hand. I guess if I tried hard enough I could use this whole name thing to my advantage.

 

The guy awkwardly pulled out his own identification and stared at it for a while.

 

“Um…I’m Dot Pixis. It’s very nice to meet you.” The guy was blushing,actually blushing. A rosey pink outlined the freckles on his cheeks as he smiled brightly; raising the card to his face.  The picture was of an old man who was bald with a thick mustache. I had to bite my thumb to avoid laughing.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“It was the best Ymir could give me on such short notice!”

 

“Ah, got mine from Ymir too but there’s no they’ll let you in with that. Not unless you can age sixty years in a minuet and have all your hair migrate to your upper lip.”

 

He shot me a sceptical look before tugging my own ID from between my forefinger and thumb and studying it for himself.

 

“I almost believed you,” he chuckled, “but this guy’s so much more mysterious and handsome.”

 

“Excuse me?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. If I didn’t know any better I’d think that was some kind of compliment in disguise, but obviously not. He was a guy and so was I.

 

“Identification please, boys.” We had made it to the front of the line much faster than I’d anticipated.  I haphazardly swiped it from “Dot’s” grip and thrust it at her; making sure that my thumb covered the picture nonchalantly of course. 

 

She waved me through without a second glance. I trudged into the bar as an Elvis song started playing on the old beat up radio in the far corner.  Shooting a quick glance behind me I could conclude that the bouncer hadn’t just waved the guy through like she had me.  Poor guy  was being lectured on fake ID’s –Ha!

 

“You don’t understand. He has one too!” Shit. I plopped myself down on the closest bar stool and waved the bartender over.

 

“Gimmie a screwdriver, uh and fast, please,”I added as he shot me an irritated look; but by the time I had finished uttering that sentence I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder.

 

“Yeah, I don’t think so Mr. Smith, if that’s even your real name.” I turned around slowly to meet the eyes of the bouncer from only a few moments ago.

 

“Hi…”I faked a smile and wrapped my hands around the cold glass the bartender had just set down before me. Before I could take a sip she wretched it from my hands and gulped it down like some parched barbarian.

 

“Jus’ put it on my tab Niall.” She nodded to the grungy man with a goatee on the other side of the counter. Without another word she dragged me by the hood of my sweater back outside to a sheepish looking certain freckle faced-

 

“BASTARD!” Several patrons turned as I lunged at the guy, still trapped in the bouncer woman’s surprisingly strong grip.

 

“If you two are going to have some kind of cat fight take it in the back, okay? And don’t even think about trying to sneak back in here… I got eyes at the back of my head.” She raised both of her thick brown eye browns until they disappeared in her bangs. I guess this was some kind of attempt at looking intimidating but good god it just looked fucking hilarious!

 

At least it would have if I hadn’t been so pissed off. Grabbing whatever-the-fuck-his-name-was by his jacket sleeve I dragged him to the area the fuck-biscuit bouncer had indicated to. Our feet dragged roughly through the dirt as we neared the dimly lit concrete patch that sat behind the bar decorated with a few garbage cans and discarded cigarettes. Shoving my new found enemy down on an empty crate I cleared my throat awkwardly. I hadn’t exactly had time to come up with what I’d say.

 

I remember the look the guy gave me. He looked terrified at first, then any lick of fear slowly melted away and he was fearlessly smirking at me. His eyebrows knitted together, silently pitying my muteness before something overcame him and he smiled.

 

“Sorry,” he grinned.

 

“No you fucking aren’t,” I said kneeling down to brush the dust off a crate beside him. “But why’d you do it?”

 

“It wasn’t fair that I should suffer while you got in. I was going to have to sit out here by myself. So…I figured it’d be much more interesting if I had you with me.” My mouth hung open as he explained this with such a completely innocent face.

 

“You fucker,” was all I could muster, taking in the way his mouth crinkled as he grinned sheepishly at his sneakers. “And...and I’ll have you know I’m not nice at all. In fact, I’m a complete dick.”

 

“Why would you say that?”

 

A part of me wanted to tell him. I really did. I’d be able to get this whole shitty guilt thing off my chest. But he was a stranger, even if he was a seemingly innocent one, we went to the same university; what was stopping him from telling the entire campus what sort of person I was? Heh, then I’d sure have a hell of a time getting a date, or a group to work with for projects, or friends- okay I didn’t have friends anyway but still. I couldn’t have people knowing I was a thief, even if I was a bad one, and how awful I was to my family, and that I used the people who thought were my friends. It was nice having someone see me as a good person, even if it was a distorted perception.

 

“For that I’d need some alcohol.” He raised his chin to reveal what could have easily been an army of freckles leading down his neck and dipping down into his soft white V-neck.  
His muddy eyes followed mine and his breath caught for a minute. Oh god, was I staring? Jerking myself a few inches away from him I feigned a sudden interest in the zippers of my leather jacket. I must have seemed like some total fucking freak. Jeez Jean way to not come off as creepy. Stare at some total stranger’s chest; yeah that’s not even the slightest bit gay!

 

But he didn’t seem to notice.

 

“I’m Marco.” He pressed a soft pale hand into my bubble of solitude. No one ever tended to cross that line. I clasped my fingers slowly between his. I was warm, almost like the feeling you get when you come inside after a cold winter day; but for me it has been a cold week- year- maybe even life time, and in that five second grip I came home to someone who seemed to genuinely care. His eyes peered at me, genuinely curious to hear the customary reply of my name. I’d seriously never been so excited to say it.

 

“I’m-“

 

“You little shits better not steal any beer from those crates.” Someone who was clearly too lazy to come out and say it had uttered the words from about ten feet from the half open door way.

 

I looked at Marco. Marco looked back at me. He seemed to decode my expression right away.

 

“No,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no! Don’t make me do this,” he pleaded in a whisper. Sliding casually off the crate I tugged off the poorly fastened top. Not wasting time to examine its contents I yanked a six pack into my and dashed down the side of the bar.

 

Marco whipped past me so haphazardly we nearly collided on the wall, splattering our stolen loot onto the battered brick. I was so sure there was someone behind us, so fucking sure. We kept running; the only sounds were our footsteps on the dusty earth and the soft slosh of the liquids we were carrying.

 

I collapsed on the steps of a crappy motel, around four blocks away from the bar. I used the heavy cans to study myself, propping them up on a higher step and leaning on them for balance. Marco has draped himself over the railing just a few steps above me, a Jack Daniel’s bottle swaying casually in his drip.

 

“W-What…ah..d-did you.. ha…h.. say your n-name was?”

 

“J-J-..ah..hah.. f-fuck…e-..hah..an..” It had never been so hard for me to say my name. My four fucking lettered, one syllabled name.

 

“N-Nice tah..ha..meetya..ah..”

 

Our eyes met as we slowly recovered, only to double over in laughter at the realization of the sounds we had just made.

 

* * *

 

Mondays were defiantly my most hated days of the week, just like any other normal person's.  Besides having to deal with the fact that I had wasted the last shreds of my weekend at church it was the Sunday night hangovers that really killed me, mostly because I had classes right at eight in the fucking morning. As any university student can tell you, those classes are a bitch when you're sober. You're probably thinking the same thing everyone tells me; "maybe if you stopped drinking that wouldn't be such a problem, Jean." Fuck you. My life sucks.

 

Jaeger always seemed immune to hangovers which only added to his enjoyment when it came time for me to drag my ass out of bed and start my week-day routine. It usually started with dumping water one me, it’s temperature was dependent on the weather: hot if it was a hot day, icy if it was a cold one. Then he'd have Reiner's pet bull dog, Oluo jump on my far from sober face and slobber all over it. Stupid thing was always bitting its tongue so I never could figure out how Eren would train it to listen to his commands.

 

But this time there was no bucket of ice cold--or hot water dumped on my drunken corpse and there was definitely no Oluo either.Maybe it was because I wasn't in my room or in the house-- _I wasn't even on campus._

 

I think I was in some sort of cheap hotel room. The mattress that creaked with every breath I took was a pretty good indicator of that. The walls are coated in some crappy design that I kid you not, involved a flower stacked held by a purple t-rex, on a cream back ground with green lines going down either side of the precarious images; secretly I wanted _it_ in my room.

 

My head was pounding like a fucking base was stuck inside of it. I only wore my boxers and  jacket which was never a good sign. The last thing I remembered was getting kicked out of a bar and stealing drinks with some guy.

 

Oh my god. Boxers…hotel room…blacking out…guy...

 

Did I sleep with a dude?!

 

My eyes scrounged for any evidence to say otherwise. The rest of my clothes (pants, socks, t-shirt, shoes) were scattered by the front door. My heart was beginning to pound so loudly it felt like the room was shaking. On the night stand, along with my wallet and phone were a few things that _shouldn’t_ have been there.

 

A bottle of water and two aspirins sat carefully placed on top of a neatly written letter. I gulped the small capsules down in moments, drinking half the bottle to drown them in my throat. These weren’t mine. So who’d left them?

 

I never assumed it’d be so hard to read while hangover but with such a shitty head ache I guess that’s bound to be a side effect.

 

**_Dear Jean,_ **

**_I know you probably don’t remember last night – don’t worry! Nothing bad happened. I swear. Well except for the fact that we stole…which I’m still trying to cope with haha! I’ve never actually done that before. I had lots of fun._ **

**_Maybe we could hang out again?_** (smilely face)

**_Please take these and look after yourself a little more than you did last night!_ **

**_~Marco Bodt_ **

 

Though it came off as a tad rushed and random…I couldn’t bring myself to care. This guy, this Marco Bodt had actually taken the time to pay for a hotel room, drag my ass into it and make sure that I was safe. This total stranger of a guy had actually been worried about me. Some part of me got all warm inside which might be a little stupid but hey; someone cared about me, someone with nice printing.

 

I liked the way his name looked on the paper. The curl off the M. The weird bubbly way he made the be.

"Marco," I laughed.

 

My phone buzzed to steal my attention. Armin’s cheerful face lit up the screen. But as I unlocked the screen I found a far less cheerful text.

 

**_Class started an hour ago! Where the …Hell… are you?!_ **

**_-Armin_ **

 

Fuck.

 

 

* * *

 

_“The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun_

_When you read my mind.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd its super late so Imma keep this short cause I'm super tired and jus' dunno what I'm doing but annn..anyway thanks for reading and please feel free to leave a comment or follow meh on tumblrrr...hurrr. @ im_unacceptable.   
> Kay bye.


	3. Dead lines and commitments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obviously there's consequences for getting drunk with a stranger on stolen liqueur. I mean duh, it's Jean.
> 
>  
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFoo3NGy0Dg 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I've been crazy ass busy. Who would have thought that acting could take up so much time. >.> Okay I did but this still isn't fair to you guys so I'm sorry.

_Don't hide away_

_There's something to be said for pushing through_

_We'd never ride on horses that discourage you_

_If you should fall upon hard times_

_If you should lose your way_

_There is a place_

_Here in this house_

_That you can stay._

It had taken me the entire day to get back to the shitty white shack I was forced to call home for the next eight months. I had tried hitchhiking but when drivers had noticed I had been talking to myself in some kind of pathetic attempt at self-comfort they just locked their doors and drove off as fast as they could – not that I blamed them, that would have been my reaction too.

The sun was down by the time I shoved my keys into the rusted keyhole. A crappy black Ford sat in the driveway that had clearly been parked in a hurry, it was Ymir’s. That could only mean she was dropping off Reiner’s “medication”. The windshield was splattered with dead bugs and she’d even gone the extra mile to have her licence plate say four20; like it wasn't obvious what she was into. Rather than park on the driveway like a normal person she had parked on the grass. The shitty picket fence had been knocked over- again. I had made that thing myself, even if it was a piece of shit. Now this was personal. I slammed the door behind me not bothering to take off my shoes. Ymir could be pretty scary when she wanted to so I’d have to be even scarier. It sounded like they were in the kitchen.

</p> “Alright Jean common, y’gotta look pissed. The view of the kitchen veered in front of me. Ymir's was seated at the kitchen table with Reiner, a black duffle bag splayed over it. Armin was pent up in the corner cooking furiously to avoid eye-contact with her.

"Do you guys have to do this bullshit in front of Armin? You know he doesn't like this shit."

"Jean it's fine I-"

"Look assbreath, no one asked you. Go to your room before I pop a cap in your ass. We don't have time for your bullshit." She broke the quivering tooth pick that sat between her teeth and kicked her large combat boots onto the table.  I shut my mouth, shooting Armin an apologetic glance I dragged my less than confident butt into my room. Eren was lying on his stomach with his homework spread over the bed like he always had it. The room was too small to even fit a desk. It barely fit a twin sized bed and a dresser. He brushed a couple of his papers out of the way so I could sit down.

"Economics?"

"Yea." In the flutter one of the pages caught my eye. It was of a man, roughly in his early forties. He had a thick brow and he was squinting his eyes as be purses his lips together in the middle of speech.

"Eren...this is great but, isn't that your professor?" Rather than answering he yelped and ripped the drawing from my grasp.

"Y-You're not supposed to see that!"

"Dude you're so gross!"

"What's that supposed to mean? Is it cause he's a guy? Huh?"

"No you dumb fuck. It's because he's your professor! And he's like a hundred!"

"Mr. Smith is only twenty-nine. And keep your voice down! Armin thinks he's cute too!"

"Dude. Crows feet and wrinkles aren't cute. They're gross."

 "What the fuck are crow's feet? God you're such a girl." I rolled my eyes and chucked a pillow half-heartedly at his face. We always had stupid little arguments like this But somehow this one felt like it wasn’t over.

"Whatever I’m gonna go take a shower."

“Thanks but I don’t really need the status update.

* * *

 

I tilted my head back into the lukewarm water and let it stream down my sweat clad, aching ,muscles. What was so great about guys? I never got what my roommates found so sexually enticing about a penis. It was just some sad limp little sea creature. </p>

Now girls though. That was another thing. They had boobs…and stuff. Though the and stuff looked kinda like that thing that eats people in Star Wars.

I shook my head launching droplets of water everywhere. Nope. Hell no we’re not thinking about this shit right now.

<p>I stared down at my own “sea creature” that was starting to perk to attention for no particular reason. What was it like to be interested in the same sex like Eren was? Mr. Smith was a total prick from what I heard. In fact I think that's why Ymir stole his ID. </p>

My teeth grinded together as I turned off the water and welcomed the rush of coldness my body was covered in bruises.  How’d I get them? Were they from last night? Everything hurt as I stepped out of the shower. 

“Fucking hell Jean…what have you been up to?” The mirror was so cool I rested my forehead against it, letting the left over water roll off of my skin. I felt like shit and I must have looked like it too.  But the mirror didn’t exactly convey that. I had the biggest fucking grin I’d had in ages.

My fingers crawled over the top of my mouth just to make sure I wasn’t being tricked.  Tomorrow was going to be hell. Didn't matter how fucking happy I was right now.

* * *

 

<p>My world history professor, Mr. Zacharias, was one of those unconventional types of people. He was a strong believer in group projects and loved making us drag our "pastey freshmen asses" to the small Trost museum to examine whatever exhibit carried some relevance to the time period we were currently studying.<br />

It was pretty okay I guess. I normally partnered up with Armin. But this wasn't like every other time. This time I had missed a class, meaning I would be assigned to an already existing group.And that's exactly what had happened. As I stood next to him on the slightly raised platform, waiting awkwardly as he stroked his goatee, and surveyed the auditorium for a pair of unsuspecting victims.

"Hey, you guys," he gave a slight sniff, bidding towards a grumpy looking girl slumped over in the third row from the back. "take John in, would ya? You guys haven't gone yet, have you?"

"Jean," I corrected him.

"Whatever," he emitted another gruff sniff before pointing to the girl about five rows up.

The girl didn't say anything. She just scowled at me and indicated to an empty spot with her pen. How awkward...it was Ymir.</p>

“Heeeeey assnugget," she snarled as I made my way up to where she was sitting. Ymir alway had to be comfortable. Her feet were up on the dark wooded desk as if this were her house. 

“Is that really the best you could come up with?”

“It’s early, and dipshit here spilled my coffee so yeah, you’ll have to make do.” I cast my eyes to the trembling wreck she was pointing at.

“M…Marco?”

“Swell so you’ve met. We’re going to the museum around four to check out their Greek exhibit. Seeing as you’re inconveniencing us you can pay for the tickets.”

A massive lump was forming in my stomach.Ymir was still talking but I couldn't hear her anymore. There he was. The guy I spent all of last night with but could hardly remember.

" Water, I need some water… _"_ I felt like choking, vomiting, and fainting all at once. What happened with this guy, what did I do?!

My legs took over for me and carried me out into the hallway and to the nearest bathroom just in time for me to lose it over the closest toilet. Karma is fucking bullshit. That could be the only reason for the universe punishing me so bad. I shouldn't have been a dick to my mom, I shouldn't have broken into that house, and I definitely shouldn't have tried to use the crappiest fake ID in existence.  Well second crappiest because Dot Pixis was a way shitter one. 

My stomach churned as I examined the various graffiti and vandalism on the tiles above me. One caught my eye that was just even more proof that I wasn't thinking clearly.  

**FOR A GOOD TIME CALL (587)- MISTER-FREEDOM**

I slipped my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number. Wasn't this one of those ploys used by closeted men for like secret sex meet ups of something? The phone stopped ringing before I even had time to concoct some kind of speech. 

_"Hello?"_

"Um..."

 _"Yes....?"_ The voice was strong, sounded almost like a super hero's or something. 

"I'm uh..inquiring about your ad...on the bathroom stall-"

 _"Haha, my add? Is that what we're going to call it?"_ The guy was actually chucking. How fucking embarrassing. I felt like some little kid that was getting laughed at by their mentor or something. 

"M-Mhm."

_"Hm...well are you over eighteen?"_

"Yeah."

_"Got time now?"_

"Um...I've got class right now- but uh maybe in a couple hours-"

 _"You're a student?"_ They seemed kind of caught off guard, panicked. 

"Yeah but what does that have to do with anything? You probably are too, aren't you?"

_"How old are you, exactly?"_

"Nineteen but-"

" _I'll think about it. I've got to get back to work."_ They hung up quickly, just as the sounds of foot steps signaled the end of class. My stomach didn't feel sick anymore. I felt light headed. Did I just set up a date or something? There were way too many things to think about. 

My phone buzzed twice in my pocket signaling I'd received two texts.  One from Armin, and one from unknown. I checked Armin's first.

_**Jean:** _

_**Eren's been ignoring all my texts. Can you tell him to pick up some bread and milk on his way home?** _

_**You guys have class together next, right?** _

 

_**~Armin** _

The class he was referring to was economics, taught by Mr.Smith. That was Eren's first class of the day which he was notorious for showing up to late so that he could ask questions about the previous lesson- his version of flirting with Mr.Smith.  That was probably why he wasn't answering his phone.

* * *

 

My assumptions had been right. Eren was currently ignoring me because I had interrupted their conversation to actually inquire about economics. I slipped my phone out of my pocket to see who the other text had come from. 

Whoever it was from had attached a photo to the text. 

"Fingers crossed this isn't a dick pic," I muttered, opening the message. It wasn't. It was of a man, with broad shoulders and thick blond eyebrows. He had big blue eyes and a smirk on his face. He was wearing a blue dress shirt and what looked like a Trost University ID on around his neck.

**_This is me. Send me a pic of yourself._ **

**_~Mister Freedom_ **

I snapped one quickly of myself with my tongue sticking out, just as Mister Smith cleared his throat to begin the lesson. My breath caught in my throat as I hit send and his phone buzzed moments later.

"Excuse me," he paused, taking out his own phone, typing a quick reply before continuing. 

I didn't get to hear what he said next because I had just received another text from Unknown.

 

**Mr.Kirstein, seem me after class.** **  
**

**~Mister Freedom**

My heart dropped into my stomach as I looked up slowly from my cell phone to meet the terrifying smirk of Mr. Erwin Smith.

* * *

 

_If you should find romance_

_Go on and take that chance_

_Before the strategies begin_

_Deadlines and commitments_

_Every morning_

_And in the evening_

_They can suck you in_

_Boy, don't I know it._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I full intend to fix chapter one and any errors in chapter two. What I never realized is how choppy chapter one comes off as and I don't want it to be like that. It's kinda weird, right? So Imma fix that and add links for every song used in this series.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright hell, lets be honest. I'm not sure how many reads this one gets but this one doesn't particularly concern me compared to the other ones. I wrote this one for myself so I guess this one's genuinely for me. Maybe this one's like others you guys have read but I tried my best to steer clear of the common story..criteria? So basically I guess to anyone who was actually interested in reading this up to this point...  
> I hope you enjoy it. This is for me and you.  
> So, thanks.


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